Nobody is clear when it started or why. But there is no doubt that the
animosity between Leeds and Chelsea, the grumbly hangover of Seventies
bickering, was a lucrative little business in its rekindling on Wednesday.

The whole of Leeds seemed to be up for this game. Bars were packed for several hours before kick off. And Elland Road was heaving for the first meeting between the two here in nine years, a house packed with those wishing to experience some old-school loathing. Clearly absence has not made the heart grow fonder.

Inside this grand old footballing theatre, the stands were fizzing with insults. The Leeds fans sang of using their “father’s gun to shoot the Chelsea scum”. Their visitors responded by suggesting Jimmy Savile was “one of your own”. It was safe to say future reservations at the Algonquin Round Table will not be required.

And if the atmosphere was a throwback, the conditions too brought back memories of those old black-and-white clashes, when men were men and kicked lumps out of each other to prove it. The rain had been hosing down all day. A murk hung around the stadium, hardly helped by the pyrotechnics occasionally let off in the Chelsea section. You could imagine how much Ron Harris and Norman Hunter would have enjoyed chopping and biting legs out there: it was their sort of night. Mind, it was so wet, had Harris gone down in the tackle, he would have slid halfway to Wakefield.

Not that either side was equipped to turn back the clock. The personal animus that fuelled those clashes four decades ago has entirely disappeared. Where once the players genuinely despised one another, now the disdain is largely restricted to Leeds manager Neil Warnock’s imagination.

Of the 22 men who had lined up the last time the two sides had met here, only Frank Lampard remained. And the Chelsea stalwart, reputedly heading towards the exit at Stamford Bridge, has long had more substantial opponents to worry about than the representatives of this fading Yorkshire institution.

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Lampard began patrolling in front of the Chelsea back four. Michael Brown in particular seemed keen to welcome him to more prosaic surroundings, but Lampard rose above the prodding and pushing of his hosts, refusing to be deflected from his 20-yard path between the centre circle and the edge of Petr Cech’s area.

And how he was needed there. If ever there was a game in which John Terry’s reputation rose in absence it was this. David Luiz gave one of his most dreamy, distracted performances. He had twice given away possession before his lazy chip forward in the middle of the first half was snapped up by the busy Leeds midfield. The ball was pushed out to Jerome Thomas, who galloped down the left before crossing perfectly for Luciano Becchio to exploit the space where Luiz might have been and open the scoring for Leeds.

At that, the visiting manager braved the downpour for the first time and picked his pigeon-toed way to the edge of the technical area, where he gave one of his masterclasses in semaphore. The subject of Rafa Benítez is the one area where the two sets of supporters find common ground. And it was not entirely clear from where the chant of “you’re just a fat Spanish waiter” emanated from.

But whatever the reputational void in which he currently resides, Benítez had considerable influence over this performance. His instructions at half-time clearly sparked his players to demonstrate that there really is a huge gap in attainment between the two sides these days.

In just over half an hour, Chelsea scored five times, through Juan Mata, Branislav Ivanovic, Victor Moses, Fernando Torres and the substitute Eden Hazard, sending the locals rapidly to the exits. And no amount of yelling and pointing by Warnock in the Leeds technical area was going to plug that gap.

For the Chelsea fans, it left plenty of time to gloat, to relish their hosts’ discomfort, to remind them that it is the team in blue who are the champions of Europe. And to ask Warnock what the score was. He did not need reminding.

Indeed, the evidence of this display would suggest the fractious north south divide is unlikely to be crossed at any time soon. When the home side’s entire creative effort came from El Hadji Diouf, it was clear Chelsea, with Lampard, Mata and Oscar in complete control of midfield, occupied a different footballing plane altogether.

Of one thing we can be sure: the next time Leeds and Chelsea meet here, Lampard will not be involved. Unless of course it is his turn for the rotating management seat at the Bridge.

How Wednesday night’s Elland Road clash ranked in the hate stakes

The players Frank Lampard tried to make it an old school game at the start, cleaning out El Hadji Diouf. Michael Brown was, well, Michael Brown, victim and perpetrator in turns, Mata catching him off the ball once, but mostly well behaved.Hate rate: 5/10

The managers Neil Warnock offered a hand of, if not friendship, then civility to Rafael Benitez before kick off and, but for a bit of finger pointing from the Leeds manager after one Lampard tackle, that was that. Too wet to prowl the technical area looking for trouble.Hate rate: 2/10

The fans Plenty of off-colour chants, obviously, including Jimmy Savile’s name getting an airing more than once, but ferocity mirrored the game with Leeds the more vocal before the break and forced in to timidity by the flurry of goals.Hate rate: 6/10